


Social Drinking

by Fenri



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 19:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11675550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenri/pseuds/Fenri
Summary: when Laurent drinks he speakes his mind more easily. But his mind is a messy place. Good thing Damens knows how to deal with all of it.





	Social Drinking

 

Perhaps his foot hurt too much, perhaps he was sulking that he had injured it during the hunt and they had to cut it short, or perhaps it was still difficult for him to understand his limit in alcohol, but Laurent was most certainly drunk.

He glanced sideways at Damen: the man looked amused which meant he definitely noticed. Which meant it was time to go to sleep before he could make a fool of himself. Damen must have seen the decision form in his head, because he said:

“Shall I carry you to our room?”

“I can walk, thank you very much.”

“No, you can’t,” he sounded so damn amused, it was frustrating.

“Why is that?”

“Because you hurt your foot.”

“Well, I walked here, didn’t I?”

“That was before you drunk all this wine though. Also, Pascal won’t get off my back if I let you strain your muscles until they’re healed.”

Laurent thought about it. The room did feel a bit blurry.

“Well then…” he outstretched his arms to Damen who giggled and picked him up effortlessly.

As they were leaving the dining hall, Laurent was vaguely aware of people starring. He did not care. He nestled comfortably in his husband’s arms and rested his head against his shoulder. Damen’s body always felt so nice against his own. It was warm and strong and made him feel loved and safe and cared for. Laurent looked up at Damen’s face. He was smiling gently, probably not aware of his expression or how gorgeous it made him look. He touched his cheek.

“I love you,” the words were out of his mouth on their own accord.

Damen squeezed him a little and kissed his forehead.

“I know. I love you too.”

It made Laurent feel even drunker.

“I know,” he echoed. Something clenched in his chest as the next words escaped him without warning:

“Please, don’t leave me.”

Damen’s smile did not waver, but his eyes were worried when he looked down at him.

“What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere.”

Laurent was not sure himself what he meant. His drunken mind seemed to be working on its own. He tugged at his shirt and repeated:

“Please. Don’t Leave me.”

“I won’t leave you,” Damen promised. “What’s this all about?”

“Everyone I love leaves me,” Laurent said. “I don’t want you to…”

Again Damen squeezed him and pressed a kiss against his head.

“I won’t leave you. I promise. Besides, you know how stubborn I get when it comes to dying,” he added jokingly.

Laurent laughed. Apparently they had reached their chambers, because Damen was lowering him on the bed. Laurent tightened his grip on Damen’s shirt. He felt silly.

“Then let’s be together,” he said smiling.

“We are together, aren’t we?”

“No, I mean forever.”

“Honey, we are married. That is basically the point.” Damen laughed and started to undress him. “Do you maybe remember the lovely ceremony we had? The vows? ‘Together forever’ thing was a big part of that.”

Laurent let Damen take off his jacket.

“You looked so beautiful that day.”

“You look beautiful every day,” was the reply.

“Nikandros cried,” Laurent said after a while, and Damen laughed again.

“That certainly happened.”

“You cried too.”

“That certainly did NOT happen.”

“Oh come on, I saw you.”

“You saw nothing.”

“I won’t tell anyone of course.”

“You told Nikandros.”

“Ah, so you admit that it happened.”

“I only said that you had told Nikandros… about the thing that did not happen.”

“There is nothing wrong about crying on your wedding day, you know.” Laurent raised his hips to help Damen pull his pants off.

“Did _you_ cry on your wedding day?”

“Me? No. I was too freaked out that something would go wrong.”

“Ah, so that’s why you yelled at Lazar.”

“Now that you remind me Lazar also cried that day. Was it a sad wedding?”

“No, it was gorgeous. But anyone would cry if you yell at them like that.”

“Lazar is a soldier…”

“That’s what I’m saying. You reduced a soldier to tears.”

“Anyway, you’re all a bunch or crybabies,” Laurent concluded while Damen was covering him with a blanket.

“And you’re a blusher.”

“What? No, I am not.”

“Oh, yes, you are, my dear husband.”

“That’s just… that’s because you… call me like that.”

“Here you go again, look, your ears are so red, it’s adorable. You’re still not used to me calling you that?”

“…”

“Which word is it? ‘Husband’? ‘Dear’? Or is it just ‘my’?”

“Stop teasing me, the- the wine makes my skin flush, that’s all it is!”

“Yes-yes, of course, my love.”

“I won’t tolerate this,” mumbled Laurent hiding under the blanket, his face burning. Damen was laughing again, and Laurent felt almost annoyed by the intense mixture of silly happiness and embarrassing shyness.

In a minute Laurent felt Damen tapping him on the shoulder.

“Here, drink some water. You’ll probably be hangover tomorrow anyway, but it will help a little.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Come on,” the blanket was being pulled off from his head. “Don’t be a baby. If you drink it, I’ll kiss you.”

Laurent rolled his eyes.

“We both know that you’ll kiss me anyway.”

“Well… yes. But if you drink it, I’ll kiss you twice, how is that?”

Laurent pretended to consider this offer for a moment.

“Ok, deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just love the idea of drunken Laurent, and him being more open and even childish sometimes, becaue it's OK if it's with Damen.  
> Please leave a coment if you have read it up to here. Coments are the HP of the authors, that's how we survive in the outside world.


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